Hot Night In The Old Estate
Ruined Estates A long time ago, the upper-class Cybertronians built their fancy homes on a gentle hill here, each trying to outdo the others in the size and elegance of their status symbols. These homes were thoroughly ransacked a long time ago, little left now but bare walls and scattered debris. Most of the high-society Cybertronians were easy prey for the Decepticons' attack; not knowing how to defend themselves few survived to fight back. All that's left to mark their existence are these houses, and despite the damage and neglect they are still beautiful, their graceful lines and sturdy architecture attesting to the artistic ability of that era, as well as the power of wealth. This region was once the territory of the shiniest of the shiny, the chromest of the chrome. In a era long since past, they would putter around on their Ionic Segways, popping off shots at crippled TurboFoxs for fun and leisure. Now-a-days, you'll be lucky to see a rust rat scurry along. The current residents are much less oppulent but much more prevalent; Empties. Femmes and Mechs down on their luck, unable or unwilling to make it in the new Cybertron. They come here hoping to find hidden treasure, secreted away by aristocrats hoping to wait out the war. The fortunate find nothing. The less fortunate find Octane! Empties have been turning up inactive, drained of every last drop of energon. They speak of a big, black truck prowling the ruins... Kind of like that one over there! A clunker of a mech can be seen darting down the avenues, hot on his heels is a massive, Terran tanker, it's headlights bearing down on the stumbling, staggering derelict. "That's right, run y'rust heap!" cackles the truck as it bears down on the soon-to-be wreck, horn blaring in the night! Nearby, but not related, Spinister glances out of the window as Octane roars past. "Well, he's been rather productive." Singe smiles from the table he's sitting on, though Spinister has no response. The Targetmaster turns back to the unhappy mech tied to the chair in the center of the room. Hairsplitter has his holofile on his DUD, the mech's record shimmering in the air. He reads it off blandly. "Gunrunner. Suspected weapons supplier to the Crystal City resistance. Suspected operator of the Underground Railroad to Retoris. Yyyyyyyeah." He sips his coffee. Gunrunner squirms. "You...you can't scare me. I don't know nothin. NOTHIN!" "Nothing." Singe corrects with a sigh. "If you're going to lie, at least use correct syntax." Man, Jazz remembers when this was one of the swankiest places on Cybertron. Lot of the racers that made it big got hot digs in this 'hood. Maybe one day he would of been one of them had the War not interferred. Oh well. Old dreams wasn't why he was here today. Those rumors, on the other hand. Stunk as bad as Blot after drinking a barrel of low grade petro. Wouldn't put it past the Decepticons to start hunting down the locals trying to stay out of their not so fair city. There may only be ruined buildings, falling walls and crumbled dreams left, but Jazz remembers what the district use to look like. More than enough to find the right shadows of the wreckage to lurk through, taking the option to be caution and look ahead, even when he hears the blaring horn that can only be the supposed 'devil truck'... Combat: Jazz slips into the shadows and out of sight... Combat: Automatically setting your defense level to 'Hidden' Jazz says, "Been gettin' some bad vibes from the old Estates, gonna check this out myself." The rumble of a heavy, cybertronian engine bounces off of the ruins and wreckage, thundering in the empties audials as he scrambles, limbs already feeling heavy. He pushes himself as hard as he can however, every glance backwards greeting him with the mirror of Octane's grill. Fun and games aside, the fueler does have a job to do. Inside of his cab, the accelerator levers down to the floor, his engine working into a louder roar as the truck surges forward, devouring the last vestiges of a hope for escape that the clunker had. Crash! Down goes ther mechanoid, hammered in the back by the massive truck and sent tumbling over the hood and to the ground, weakend, battered, slow to rise. Octane's breaks bring the truck to a squeeling halt, rubber shrieking across the rusty surface of the road way before it can bring him to a stop once more. Gears shift and the tanker works into a reverse. As the truck nears the wreck, hoses and nozzle begin to unfold and writhe through the air in a serpentine manner. One is tipped with a odd, syringe-like spike. It hovers over the struggling unfortunate like a viper waiting to strike. Gunrunner glares at Singe. "NothINGnothINGnothinGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGAHHHHHHH. But you're wasting your time. I've never even seen Climhazard, much less supplied his armories." Spinister turns from the window, stepping towards the prisoner. "Yet you know Climhazard is a head of the resistance." Gunrunner makes a face. "Erm...I mean... I guessed! You know that guy, he had rebel written all over his face! You gotta let me go!" Singe activates his antigravs, and smiles, flitting over to the prisoner. "Time to burn, my friend. You will not enjoy this." He transforms, and Spinister squeezes the trigger. The room gets hot. Jazz makes his way partway up a broken wall, the tanker truck coming into clear view. He glances off to the side as if he heard something, but then the screams of Octane's victim drown it out. That definately is not a good experience. He could just take out his rifle and shoot the Decepticon away, but where's the fun in that. A glance up spots the remains of a roof support jutting out, and that gives Jazz an idea. A grapple shot later and Jazz hoists up onto the beam, but nary stops there a moment before jumping off of it and suddenly appearing in Octane's field of vision as he grabs for the hose trying to hold the guy down, twists around it and kicks the one with the horrible looking needle back at the triplechanger. "I always knew ya were a hoser, Octane, but this ain't cool at all." Combat: Jazz appears from the shadows... Combat: Sneak Attack!! Combat: Jazz strikes Black and Chrome Semi-Tanker with his Heroic rescues are always in style (Kick) attack! Jazz says, "Ayup, there be Decepticreeps crawlin' about." Beachcomber says, "Good luck man. Don't get shot up too bad." When the friendly, neighborhood Jazz swings in for the rescue, the tanker truck could be heard to emit a distinct, startled, "Agh?!" even as the syphon hose was sent reeling away, a dent pounded into the metal ribbing that makes up it's exterior, leaving it to recoil away as if scalded! Jazz, crew of the Ark, one of the few that didn't get scrapped when they raided that shuttle... Slag, slag, slag, slag, slag! If it were possible for a diesel engine to panic, the emotion would be written all over Octane's... windshield? Thankfully, Octane's current form limits his emotive ability, buying him time to bottle up his fear and... Transform! With a flurry of movement and a little bit of mass shunting, Octane looms up over Jazz, looking mean as the day is long and almost as ugly! "Keep out of this-" he halts, fighting for some slanderous remark... But Jazz just looks so sauve and stylish that few are short coming, "Visor-Face!" Crap! "That is unless you want to be wearing your gearbox as a hood ornamanet!" he continued with a horrid sneer, hiding his worry behind bluster. Most people wait after delivering threats to see if they are believed... but not Octane, no sir! The larger mech lunges forward, fist dropping low as he drives his meaty, metallic mit directly towards Jazz's face. Black and Chrome Semi-Tanker transforms into his Octane mode Octane strikes Jazz with his Knuckle Sandwich Special (Punch) attack! Spinister walks calmly from the burning building where Gunrunner has met his untimely demise. Hairsplitter, always working, prepares a report to Shockwave and Contrail on their next step in assassinating key resistance targets. Singe is turning circles, arms outspread... He always gets this way when he's burned someone to death. Spinister stops in his tracks, spotting Jazz and Octane skirmishing in the distance. Once he sees, the other two look as well, and then up at him. "I'll have to update our timecards..." Hairsplitter blurgles boringly. Combat: Spinister is no longer apparent in view! Jazz takes advantage of Octane's transformation to pull the poor bloke out of the hoses and push him aside... and then a building goes up in flame as well? What were these punks doing here? "G'on, go call the Bot Fire and Rescue man!" He shouts to the harried civvie, and turns back to Octane just in time to get a metal fist to face. He takes a step back, one hand going to rub his chin. "Not a bad punch, m'man, but yer insults need a little work." Now Jazz isn't the biggest, the strongest or even the toughest of Autobots; but is he going to back down from a big chrome plated bully? You best bet your ball bearings he's not going to! "Guess I'll just have ta educate you myself." Jazz darts up to the larger Decepticon, aiming a quick suckerpunch at Octane's midsection to bend him over. "If ya gonna mess with the beat on the street." His other hand snaps out, aiming to grab the back of his opponent's head and slam it down into the ground while he's hopefully off balance. "Then yer gonna -eat- the street!" Combat: Jazz strikes Octane with his Takedown attack! -2 Jazz's hand finds home against the truck hood that makes up Octane's midsection, the modest armoring there doing much to absorb the impact, a faint dent left in the wake of the strike. It's just barely enough to bend the fueler forward with a grunted 'Oof!' before he he is kindly introduced to the street. Street, this is Octane. Octane, Street. Why hello, Street! It's a pleasure to meet you! ONLY IT WASN'T! Jazz had the leverage but not the muscle to make it count, Octane just kind of drops and pops right back up, quicker than a nasty rust rash from that one gal you really should have thought twice about. Only he's more angry and less persistant! "Sorry, I'm all... You know what? Foprget this witty banter, I'm just going to hit you!" remarks Octane, heatedly. As promised, he abandons the burdensome banter and reels back his right arm, the hand open, palm facing his shoulder before he lets loose with a wide, arcing swing to the side of Jazz's head! Combat: Octane strikes Jazz with his Pimp Hand attack! Spinister watches from the shadows, stalking the two fighters while he waits for orders... A blip in his optical HUD display: 'Return to base.' Contrail. Never one for speeches. Spinister watches Octane Singe Hand the Autobot Intelligence Director. Why the hesitation? Jazz is a Bot he'd really, really like to murder. A feather in a cap for another time. The Targetmaster leaps into the air, transforming near the combatants, and coptering back to Crystal City! Combat: Suddenly, Spinister appears out of the blue! Spinister transforms into an Apache Attack Helicopter! A MYSTERIOUS ATTACK HELICOPTER! Putting the punk to the floor meant more than how much it hurt, because it looked -badass-. Don't underestimate the spec-ops guy just because he's not a big mountain of angles and blocks. Looks like the civvie did the smart thing and run off. Probably doesn't matter if he actually calls for help, this place is a dump anyways. Though Jazz would like to know who or what started that fire, maybe Nightbeat or Streetwise can poke the ashes later. He's got a more direct matter to keep a handle on. "Maybe if you spent less time playing keg-stand with Astrotrain you'd be quicker on the witty reto--whoa!" Jazz brings up an arm to block the offending gesture, but Octane's difference in size is enough to still knock him down from the force. He skids on his back briefly before flipping over and onto his feet, and glancing over his shoulder. "Man, Torque is gonna have to buff that -again-." With a snort He draws his blaster, twirling it briefly in his hand. "How 'bout I show ya the light?" Snapping it into a proper grip he levels the weapon at the fueler and fires off a shot of shearing energy. Combat: Jazz strikes Octane with his Solar-Powered Photon Rifle attack! Knocking the Jazz Meister for a loop did Octane a world of good. You could see it written on his face! Eyes agleam like christmas lights, bright and cheerful, his lips split into a broad, taunting grin. "You like that? Plenty more where that ca-" The gun came out and Octane's jeers died on his lips. "Ohnononon-!" he began, dropping back onto his heels, hands lifting up as if they could ward away the shot. The blast zipped in, striking Octane square in the chest, blasting a hole directly through the truck roof that gave him his buxom figure! With a yowl of pain and the sound of shattering glass, Octane toppled backwards, a sneer painted across his face as he slapped a hand to the faintly, smoking hole in his chest. "Nnh!?" he growled in frustration. as he staggered to his feet... Something like that in just the right spot and it will all be over! It's time... it's time for his ace in the hole! Reaching behind him, Octane produces a large riot shield, it's surface polished to a chrome finish! He secures it to one arm, fastening it tightly in place before he brings it forward. "Just... Just you try that again!" he dares Jazz, the air around him filling with a crackling hum, "Nothing, NOTHING can get past my Deflecto-Shield!" Combat: Octane creates a forcefield shielding himself from damage. Jazz braces himself for the next counter-attack.. which doesn't come when Octane decides to pull the riot act. Err riot shield act. There's a pause... And then a big smirk spreads across his metallic features. "Is that a challenge, dude? Followed by another flashy twirl of his gun, only to make a holstering motion to mag-lock it to his thigh. Then reach back with his hand to pull his shoulder weapon up into place, adjusting the setting as he does so. "Let's see how it stands up to a little panic at the disco." With a *FAWOOOOOSH* the launcher fires, projectile detonating midair to turn the entire shebang into one blazing stream of fire that will certainly put that shield through it's paces. It's a flamethrower.. that literally throws the flames as a rocket. Don't look at me, the 80s loved punny word-plays. Combat: Jazz strikes Octane with his Disco Inferno attack! -3 Combat: Octane's forcefield absorbs Jazz's attack. His momentary bravado is swept away like smoke before a stiff breeze. It had been a long while since he had tested his shield, he could only hope it remained as sturdy as ever! Setting his heels and all but cowering behind the barrier when the condensed flame came streaking in! With optics cinched shut, Octane felt the blistering heet sweep over him, heard the roar of the flames... but beyond the discomfort of the temprature, nothing. No, terrible pain, no internal chain reactions. Just the heat and the roar. He pried one optic open and then another. The fire raged all around him, surrounding him, held at bay by a invisible bubble of force... it worked. "I AM INVINCIBLE!" cheered the triplechanger from inside the little taste of hell, arms pumping into the air. Striding out of the flames, Octane put on the air of a man strolling out of a warm rain, unphased in the least. "Oh, I'm sorry, was that supposed to do something?" he wondered aloud, smiling like the dickens. "Maybe you just need to see it done right first, here, let me help!" he prattles, pulling a carbine rifle from somewhere. He held it out at arms reach, aiming in Jazz's general direction before pulling the trigger! Cybertronian napalm spewed forth, ignited by a pilot light that sprang to life before the muzzle. He treated the weapon like a water hose, just spraying the area around Jazz down with the viscous, flaming fluid. Combat: Octane misses Jazz with his Flamethrower attack! Combat: Octane (Octane) used "Flamethrower": A Level 3 AREA-RANGED attack. Okay, that was a bit impressive it soaked up to the heat, even if that wasn't a full power blast. Even Jazz can't deny that fact, expressing such in a brief whistle. Though the smirk returns when Octane proclaims his survival, waggling a finger in the Con's bubbled direction. "Ah ah dude, don't be getting cocky just yet." Then the flamethrower comes out, its gout of fire shooting past the shield from the inside. "Fightin' fire with fire!" But as the blast of heat scorchs by Jazz nimble evades it. By doing the splits to drop beneath the stream as it blasts against another ruined building and setting it alight. That's two burning buildings now. Good thing this place is already ruined. After the blast of flames Jazz flips himself off the ground with one hand and tucks down into a tumble to roll up behind the remains of some foundation, keeping a lower profile partially behind the rubble. "Gonna need somethin' bigger to burst that bubble," he murmurs, thinking it over even as he pokes up just far enough to pop off a quick shot at the field and then duck down again. Combat: Jazz sets his defense level to Protected.. Combat: Jazz strikes Octane with his Duck And Cover Potshots attack! -2 Combat: Octane's forcefield absorbs Jazz's attack. Maybe Jazz's first shot had damaged his targeting subroutines, maybe it was the fact that Octane's hands were shaking. Whatever it was, Octane didn't like it and it showed! With face worked into a angry mask, Octane scowled mightily! Shunting the carbine into his armpit, he took a moment to consolt a LED gauge that revealed itself from behind a armored portion of his arm. He had gone on this excursion to collect fuel, not drain it! He tapped the meter, hoping it would prove untruthful... No such luck. There was always his reserves, but that was throwing good money after bad! The sizzle of Jazz's shot striking the 'field brings him out of his consideration, head rocking up to spot Jazz just as he ducks out of sight. His vision trails upwards and he gets a idea. Fiddling with the rifle's settings, Octane enacts his 'cunning' plan! The weapon levels towards Jazz's fort of rubble before abruptly snapping upwards. A solid-stream laser zips from the barrel and rakes across the base of a ruined balcony that hung just over Jazz's head! What was left came tumbling down, a small rain of rubble that tumbled down around Jazz's prongs! Combat: Octane sets his defense level to Fearless. Combat: Octane strikes Jazz with his My Stand-In For Rubble (Pistol) attack! Jazz looks up as the laser shoots over his head and tears into the remains of a balcony. "Looks like he's bringing down the house." He grabs the ruins he had been ducking under and vaults over them to avoid being crushed, but not without getting some debris pelting him like metal hail as he bolts across the rusty street and ducks through the doorway of another husk of a building. That forcefield was putting a damper on his day, but the master of cool wasn't about to loose his wits. Hunkering down for the moment he pulls a module out and affixes it to the end of his gun, turning the photon weapon into a power source for a different array. Then half stepped to a window and pointing the gun out at Octane and his field. "Yo, big dumb and ugly. Over here!" Then pulls the trigger, modification firing off a loud THOOM of a sonic blast. See what that forcefield thinks of that! Combat: Jazz strikes Octane with his Droppin' A Beat attack! Combat: Octane's forcefield absorbs Jazz's attack. "Who are you calling-" rages the triplechanger just as Jazz pulls the trigger. The intense, sonic vibration cascade towards him, Octane immidiately falling back behind his shield in all but a huddled mess! The field fluxes into sight once more, a bubble of pale light that trembles and shivers like the surface of a disturbed lake as it fends off the tide of sonic force! Out of the corner of his eye, Octane can see the gauge fall, dipping from yellow and down into the red! No, this was unacceptable! It's not that he's cowardly at all, this is just a waste of fuel! Yeah, yeah, that's it! "You know what? I don't have to take this kind of falacious, verbal abuse from you! So why don't you just boogie on down to a body shop and rotate your own tires, I'm leaving!" huffs Octane, disengaging his forcefield before suddenly leaping into the air and transforming.... INTO A HUMONGOUS JETLINER! The wash from his engines whipe the air into turbulent swirls, scattering debris and dust everywhere as the triplechanger streaks into higher altitudes! Combat: Octane's forcefield protecting himself vanishes. Octane transforms into his Boeing KC-46 Tanker mode. Combat: Boeing KC-46 Tanker begins retreating, outrunning all pursuit. Good news, that blast looks like it actually knocked a chunk out of the forcefield. Bad news, a glance at the meter makes Jazz moan slightly, realizing it took most of the solar battery of his rifle dry as well. But it seems to have gotten the message across as Octane transforms and 'tactically withdraws to the rear' as Decepticons like to put it. Cool as ever though Jazz leans against the half-broken wall like he had intended that all along, pointing a finger after the jet taking off. "Now that wasn't a half bad insult." Pause. "Wasn't half good, either."